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Message-ID: <62584asstr$1361196679@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Guy Nickologist <ceres39@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Elizabeth: Part 1 {g/nosex}
Lines: 661
Date: Mon, 18 Feb 2013 09:11:19 -0500
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Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

I started to submit this earlier in the week, but Denny caught several
issues.  I believe I have them all fixed.  Below is the story.  I'm also
attaching a plain text file.  I will wait your response that everything is
good before submitting the rest of the story.

-----

A few years ago I wrote a trilogy about a woman named Karla.

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2009/59625
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2009/59644
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2009/59652

I got a lot of positive feedback about the stories and everyone wanted
more.  I had killed off the two main characters.  I went back and tried to
squeeze in more stories, but I ended up contradicting my existing stories.
 So I started over with a woman named Elizabeth.

This is a dark story involving murder, child rape, suicide, and everything
in between.  I will post it chapter by chapter, each with its own story
codes.  The story starts out slow, but I needed that much runway to give
Elizabeth some depth and make her activities in later life make sense.

As always, feedback is welcome: ceres39@gmail.com


Chapter 1

        Elizabeth stood and watched the dust settle.  Her father had driven
off into town.  She wanted to make sure he was good and gone.  Her mother
was home, but the house could be on fire and the woman would never realize
it.  That's what breeding did to women.

        On their property stood a small, rundown house.  Someone had
painted all of the windows white so no one could see inside.  Her brother
told her that's where the family's slaves used to live.  She knew he was
lying because slavery was never legal in Iowa.  She was only eight, but she
wasn't stupid.  And she was getting off the damn farm and moving to a big
city someday.  All the hicks, including her own family, could stay on the
farm for all she cared.

        She opened the door.  The small house was never locked.  Even
though the windows were painted over, they allowed in enough light to see.
 Which was good because the house didn't have electricity.  She took her
brother's old bike and walked it outside closing the door behind her.

        The driveway leading from the county road to the farmhouse where
the Clayton family lived was rough and pitted.  Yet there was a smooth,
paved path that traveled away from the house up a hill to where the well
was located.  Elizabeth never understood why they didn't just pave the
driveway too.  But it was a good thing they hadn't.

        She pushed the bicycle up the paved path until she was at the top.
 She surveyed the roads.  Not a vehicle in sight.  Elizabeth didn't want
her father knowing what she was about to do.  He would flip out just
because she was on a boy's bike.  If he knew what she was really up to he'd
be furious!

        Elizabeth straddled the bicycle.  The bar that defined the bike as
being for a boy prevented her feet from completely touching the ground.  On
tip toes she rocked back and forth.  Perfect.  Another glance.  She saw a
small car driving along the highway.  Dad drove a large pickup truck.  She
pressed into the pedal and started down the hill.  She turned the
handlebars violently left and right trying to keep the large bike upright
as she struggled to gain speed.  She hadn't noticed before that the path
went slightly uphill before its quick decent towards the driveway.  Somehow
she kept the bicycle upright and went down the hill.  She pedaled as hard
as she could being careful not to go too fast as the path had a few shallow
curves.  Faster, faster, faster.

        The end of the path came quickly.  She took her feet off the pedals
and rested her crotch on the bar.  At first not much happened.  She could
feel the bicycle vibrating against her vulva.  Suddenly her body lifted up
from the bike frame and slammed back into it.  Again.  And again.  She
pointed the bike to the left side of the driveway where the surface was
rougher.  She slid back, the pointy end of the bicycle seat hitting her
tailbone.  The rear tired raised up sending her, crotch first, into the
handlebars.  Losing control of the bicycle she fell forward, landing on the
palms of her hands.

        Elizabeth lied there for a moment with only the faint ticking sound
of the bike's rear wheel continuing to spin.  Her pussy hurt like hell.
 But that was the point.

        She stood up.  Her groin continued to throb.  As did pretty much
every other inch of her body.  She stood up and picked up the bike.  It
survived the crash better than she did.  She returned it to its home and
then walked back to the farmhouse.  She entered.  As usual she heard the
television.  It was on 24 hours a day.  She walked upstairs.  The hallway
was empty.  She wanted to see what damage she did to her cunt.  She liked
the word cunt.  She felt like it accurately described that part of her
body.  Just as she was about to step into the bathroom she heard her
mother's shrill voice.

        "Elizabeth, what happened to you?"

        "I fell off my bike."

        "My heavens girl, did you fall off a cliff?"

        Elizabeth wanted to point out there were no cliffs on the property,
but she remembered her mother became stupid when she became a mother and
probably didn't know that.

        "I'm fine.  I have to go to the bathroom."

        "I'm running the tub, you need to clean those scrapes out so they
don't become infected."

        "I can do it myself."

        "Elizabeth, I'm serious!"  She turned the knobs on the faucet.
 "Get those clothes off and get into the tub."

        "Mom!  I'm a little old for you to see me."

        "Oh please!"

        Realizing she wasn't going to win this one she pulled off her
t-shirt.  She used her toes to remove her shoes from the other foot and
then pulled her shorts off.

        "Elizabeth!", her mother shrieked in an even more shrill tone.
 "What did you do?"

        She looked down at herself.  Her right outer labia was a deep shade
of purple and blood was between her thighs.

        "And why aren't you wearing underwear?"

        Elizabeth thought to herself, "I wanted as little cushioning
between the bicycle and cunt you stupid woman!"  Instead she got into the
tub.

        "You get cleaned up and I'm calling the doctor."

        "Mom!  I'm fine!"

        "You most certainly are not!  That's a delicate part of your
anatomy."

        "Who cares?"

        "Elizabeth, you're too young to know or understand this, but
there's where babies are made.  If we don't get it looked at you might not be
able to have babies."

        "Mom, I know all about that."

        Her mother ignored her.

        "I do.  A man sticks his dick in you and nine months later out
comes a twat muffin."

        "Elizabeth Samantha Clayton!  Don't let me ever hear you talk like
that again!"

        Elizabeth slammed the faucet off.

        "Just get out and let me take a bath!"


Chapter 2

        Elizabeth quickly bathed.  The water was stinging.  She took stock
of herself.  The meaty part of both hands were scraped up and full of
gravel.  Her left elbow was bleeding.  Both knees and shins were scraped,
but not bleeding badly.  They were mostly stinging.

        She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror.  She had a bruise
in the small of her back from the bicycle seat.

        Elizabeth got out of the tub, opened a drawer, and took her hand
mirror.  She held it between her legs.  She had a bruise on her right side,
but it was contained to the round, plump part of her anatomy.  She saw some
blood at the entrance to her vagina.  She knew she had only broken her
hymen and not burst her uterus like she was attempting to do.

        She opened the drain on the tub and dried off.  After brushing her
hair she walked into her bedroom and got dressed.  Her mother burst in.

        "Mom!  Please knock."

        "This is my house young lady."

        "What do you want?"

        "First I want you to show me some respect.  Next I want you to get
your shoes on, we're going to the doctor."

        "Oh my god mom, all I did was rupture my hymen.  I'm fine."

        "I don't know where you're hearing all of this language, but it's
going to stop."

        "Mom, my hymen is a part of my body.  Like my finger or tooth.  Or
ovary!"

        "Enough!"

        Elizabeth shoved her feet into her flip flops and stomped off to
the car.


Chapter 3

        Elizabeth stood in the examination room.  Given the nature of her
injury the nurse practitioner, Sandra Waller, examined the girl instead of
Dr. Tom Watson, no relation to the golfer.

        "Okay, put your shorts back on."

        Sandra addressed the girl's mother not realizing she was an addle
minded breeder.

        "It's really nothing, just the typical injury we see in physically
active girls."

        "Will she still be able to have babies?"

        Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

        "This incident won't cause infertility.  She has a small contusion,
that's just a bruise, and she tore her hymen."

        Mom let out with a small gasp.

        "Mrs. Clayton, this is perfectly fine.  Most girls tear their hymen
before they reach puberty.  She's still a virgin.  And it will make it
easier for her to use tampons."

        "I haven't had that talk with her yet."

        "Mom, I know what tampons are.  And pads.  And I know I'll have
periods soon."

        Sandra chuckled.

        "It sounds like she's already in the know, but I do suggest having
that mother-daughter talk now.  I can give you some information to help."

        "I won't be needing that."

        Mrs. Clayton picked up her purse.

        "Come Elizabeth."


Chapter 4

        Elizabeth hated winter.

        Hate wasn't a strong enough word.  Her father was a farmer.  In
Iowa no one farmed during the winter.  He had no animals to tend to.  So he
sat around the house all winter.  Every year it was the same.  Her mother,
who never worked a day in her life, would badger her father to get a job in
town during the winter for some extra money.  Elizabeth thought her mom was
being a bitch, but it would get rid of her dad for the day.

        She didn't hate her dad.  But she didn't love him.  He was close to
her brother, but never to her.  What little interaction he had with her was
being yelling at her for being a tomboy or when her mother would yell at
him to discipline her.  He didn't drink.  He didn't smoke.  He never hurt
her.  He just had these stupid ideas out of the blue.  She'd be minding her
own business and he'd suggest she wear a dress or take ballet.  At first
she challenged him which only made him angry.  She soon figured out she
could give a noncommittal "ok" and he would never follow up.

        Winter was boring.  During other times of the year she could
explore outside.  But during the winter it was too cold.

        She had recently turned nine.  That was another reason winter was
bad.  She entered the world with a uterus inside of her.  That's the last
thing a girl wants to be born with.

        Just to have something to do she walked out to the barn with her
father.  She looked around.  Something caught her eye.

        "Daddy, what's that?"

        "That's a sawhorse."

        "A what?"

        "Sawhorse."

        He grabbed it, opened the legs, and set it down.

        "I have several.  They're handy to lie things on."

        "Lay daddy, not lie", she said to herself.

        That evening a blizzard roared through.  Her parents bickered at
each other.  Elizabeth knew it was her mother's time of the month.  Well,
more exactly it was a few days before her mother's period, when she was
always the grouchiest.  It was made worse by everyone being trapped inside
their house.

        Elizabeth did not understand why women had uteruses.  They caused
so much trouble!  Couldn't girls stop being born with that dreadful organ
and just allow the human race to peacefully die off?  Was that too much to
ask?

        The local schools were closed due to the storm.  Which suited
Elizabeth just fine.  Her teacher was an absolute dingbat with big boobs.
 She knew immediately the woman was breeder.  Why else would she be so
stupid?  The teacher finally admitted to having had twins.  God!  Having
two of them inside you must make you doubly stupid!

        The sun came back out.  It wouldn't be enough to melt the snow but
it would mean the roads could be cleared and school would resume.
 Elizabeth felt depressed.  She hadn't had any alone time.  Her brother,
father, and brain damaged mother had been hanging around for days.  On
Thursday morning the trucks came and cleared the roads in their corner of
the county.  Her parents could finally leave, but she'd probably be back in
school.

        That evening they sat down to dinner.  The estrogen-induced
retarded woman couldn't cook to save her life.  Elizabeth picked at the
food and tried to imagine eating something good.  But the father fucker
actually had some good news.

        "Kids.  I saw on the news that school won't resume until Monday.
 They're having trouble getting the furnaces working in some of the
schools."

        Elizabeth would have said "Hooray for miracles" if she had believed
in miracles.  Or God.

        The next morning Elizabeth was sitting in her room reading.  Her
mother stuck her head in.

        "Elizabeth dear.  Your father and I are headed into town.  We need
food and I need... something.  Your brother is at the McCarthy's.  Just call
if you need him.  Do you have their number?"

        "I do."

        "Okay, stay safe."

        Elizabeth didn't answer.  She also didn't know the McCarthy's phone
number, but didn't care since she had no intention of calling.

        The next five minutes dragged forever, at least an hour in
Elizabeth's mind.  So many things could go wrong.  Her brother could
reappear.  Her mother, who didn't have a functioning brain, probably forgot
her checkbook.  Or coupons.  Or purse.  Something.  She could return.

        Another five minutes passed.  It was probably safe.  Elizabeth
slipped on her coat and tennis shoes and walked out to the barn.  The air
was unusually warm.  Her father kept the barn locked, but the key was under
an empty flower pot sitting alone next to the door.  She unfastened the
lock, opened the door a crack, and slipped in.

        Light came in the windows casting long shadows across the barn.
 She didn't want to turn on any lights knowing her parents or brother would
investigate.

        She found the sawhorse her father had shown her and unfolded the
legs.  She placed both palms on it and lifted her body up.  It seemed
sturdy.

        Elizabeth's mouth felt dry.  She wished she had a glass of water.

        Just to be sure she ran across the barn and looked out the window.
 Just the still mid-winter morning.  She walked back to the sawhorse and
kicked off her shoes.  She then removed her coat, dropped it to the floor.
 Her mouth felt a magnitude dryer.  She unfastened her jeans and pulled
them off along with her panties.  Suddenly she felt cold and detected a
subtle breeze blowing across her.  She decided to leave her t-shirt on.

        Elizabeth mounted the sawhorse, her legs on either side, her cunt
resting on the wood.  She placed her hands before her body, leaned forward,
and then let her body slam back onto the two-by-hour.

        Nothing.

        She did it again.  No pain.  It was no more uncomfortable than
sitting.

        She placed her hands far in front of her, arched her back, and
placed her feet on the bar.  She hesitantly opened her legs, but not far
enough.  The wood scraped the insides of her thighs.  She repeated
concentrating on keeping her legs apart.

        Smack!

        It hurt.  But it was mild.

        She sat on the sawhorse thinking.  She mentality went through
different positions, but couldn't think of what that would do the job.
 Then it hit her.

        Elizabeth climbed off the sawhorse and ran back to the window.  No
sign of anyone.  Good.

        She ran back to the sawhorse, this time standing on it.  She held
both feet close together with the piece of wood running front to back.  She
closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.  She felt dizzy.
 Concentrating she opened her legs wide.

        SLAM!

        Elizabeth heard a loud scream.  Only after she found herself on the
floor did she realize the scream had come from her.  She held her crotch.

        "Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck!"

        Waves of nausea hit.  She ran to a trash can and vomited into it.
 Her legs buckled under her and she sunk to the ground.  She looked down
and saw blood, scrapes, and bruises.

        Elizabeth stood up to do it again.  She climbed back onto the
sawhorse and stood there.  Her mind was weaker than her body.  She was
unable to open her legs again.  She climbed down, put her clothes back on,
folded the sawhorse and returned to the house.



Chapter 5

        Elizabeth felt like she couldn't walk.  Her cunt had a deep bruise.
 She didn't bleed much leading her to believe her uterus was still intact.
 Depressed she lied in bed reading her book.  The brain damaged woman burst
in.

        "Elizabeth?", she said in her screeching voice.  "Did you get your
period?"

        "No mom, I'm only nine."

        "Why is there blood in your underwear?"

        Elizabeth had changed clothes after her adventure in the barn.  Big
mistake.

        She shrugged and went back to her book.

        "Elizabeth?  What happened?  Were you riding your bike in the snow?"

        "No mom, it's nothing.  I probably just bumped into something."

        "I need to see."

        "MOM!  No, you don't need to look at me there.  I'm fine."

        Elizabeth saw her brother walk by her door with a grin on his face.
 She grunted and pulled the book up in front of her.

        "Elizabeth!"

        "Okay.  I was playing in the barn.  I was bored.  I was walking
across one of dad's things like a balance beam and I fell."

        Her mother looked at her watch.

        "This is the second time this is happened.  I need to call the
doctor's office before they close."

        "Mom, I'm not going to the doctor."

        Her mom had already left.

        Two hours later Elizabeth found herself in the same exam room with
the nurse practitioner, Sandra.  Her mother had been hysterical.  Sandra
arranged for her mother to be called out for some paperwork.  She needed to
talk to Elizabeth alone.

        "Elizabeth.  What's happening?"

        "I was playing in the barn and I fell."

        "Both your injuries are consistent with violent sexual assault."

        "That's not what happened!"

        "Is it your father?  Your brother?  A boy from down the street?"

        "No!".  Elizabeth started to cry.

        "I see this injury with girls.  Always the girl is hysterical.
 She's crying.  She thinks she's done something wrong.  You.  You've been
very calm.  Almost annoyed that you're here."

        "Because I know it's nothing."

        "Elizabeth.  You're obviously a very smart young woman.  Do you
know who you remind me of?"

        She shook her head.

        "Me.  You remind me of me when I was your age."

        The room fell silent.

        "Elizabeth, why are you injuring yourself?"

        Elizabeth cried.

        "It's okay.  Really, I understand."

        "No you don't."

        "I do.  I really do.  I need you to tell me what is going on.  Why
are you hurting yourself?"

        "I told you, I fell."

        "Elizabeth.  You're going to do this again.  In fact you probably
have done it more than twice, just your mother didn't know.  Am I right?"

        The girl didn't answer.

        "I want to help you.  But if I see you like this again I have to
assume sexual assault.  That's going to involve the police.  Counselors.
 Your parents will be questioned."

        "I don't like my body."

        "What don't you like about it?"

        "Do you know by the end of the century the world will have six
billion people?"

        "I think I've heard that."

        "And ten years after that we'll have seven billion?"

        "Could be."

        "I don't want to be part of that!"

        "You don't have to.  It's your right to choose not to have a child."

        "I don't want anything to do with it.  I don't want to have
periods.  I don't want to be a grumpy witch every month like my mother.  I
don't want men inside of me, using my body, leaving their gunk in me.  I
don't want babies.  I don't want a uterus."

        "Are you trying to damage your uterus to prevent puberty?"

        "Yes!"

        "First off, you're doing it wrong.  Your uterus is deep inside your
body.  You're never going to damage it with trauma to your vulva.  All
you're going to do is cause nerve damage and incontinence.

        Elizabeth looked puzzled.

        "What's incontinence?"

        "You won't be able to hold your pee or poop in."

        "Yuck."  She paused.  "How would I damage my uterus?"

        Sandra smiled.

        "I can't tell you that.  But it's not easy."  She paused.
 "Elizabeth.  In two to five years you will start having periods.  I'm not
going to lie to you, they will suck.  Those first few years are horrible.
 But it gets better."

        "My mom and my teachers are such bitches when they have PMS."

        "You learn to deal with it.  You learn to cope.  I'm pre-menstrual
right now."

        "You are?"

        "I am.  In some ways it gives me strength.  Had this been my happy
time I probably would not have told you I suspected sexual assault or
suggested it was a family member."

        "Oh."

        "I learned to draw from it.  When I was in nursing school I always
hoped my final exams were during this time because I felt strong and wasn't
going to let anyone or anything get in my way."

        "That's neat."

        "But I had a hard time as a teen.  I hated boys.  Hated them.  They
would stare at my boobs, throw paper airplanes, and talk about sports
without a care in the world while I was doubled over with horrific cramps.
 They just had no idea.  It wasn't fair."

        "That's what I'm afraid of!"

        "Don't let them win!  Stand your ground.  Want to know the best way
to get a boy to leave you the hell alone?"

        "Okay."

        "Start talking about your menstrual cycle.  They won't bother you
again."

        Elizabeth giggled.

        "Now promise me you'll stop hurting yourself."

        Elizabeth stared at the ground.

        "Elizabeth?"

        "I promise."

        "Good."

        Elizabeth paused and then said, "Doctor Waller?"

        "I'm a nurse, not a doctor.  But yes?"

        "Do you still hate boys?  Or men?  Are you a lesbian?"

        "Now that's rather personal isn't it?"

        "I just want to know.  What if I'm one?  I hate boys too and I
haven't even gotten my period."

        "I have a boyfriend.  We have sex.  We don't live together.  I
never want children."

        "Were you ever a lesbian?"

        "Elizabeth!"

        "What if I'm one?"

        "You will know if you are.  And it's okay.  I did have a sexual
encounter with a woman when I was sixteen.  She was my volleyball coach.
 It should never have happened.  But I was young.  And I liked her."

        Elizabeth sat silently.

        "Oh fuck, I shouldn't have told you that."

        Elizabeth smiled.

        "It happened a few times.  I enjoyed it.  But no, I wasn't a
lesbian.  I was confused."

        "Okay."

        "Now that I have told you my darkest secret, you have to swear you
will stop hurting yourself."

        "I promise."

-- 
http://sites.google.com/site/obgynstories Erotic stories and more!
Have a happy period!  :-)

	
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